Windows to the Soul
by Confessions of a Short Girl
Summary: Eyes are the windows to the soul. Take one look into them and you'll see everything that that person is feeling. Everything good thing, every bad thing. No one can hide it, no one, not even the victors. Written for the Down with the Capitol Authors forum.


They say that eyes are the windows to the soul.

No matter what you say or think, your eyes will always betray you. You can say all you want that you love them and only wish the best for them, but the loathing and hatred will give you away. You can pretend that you could care less about him, but the longing will always be in your eyes as you watch him leave.

People believe that if they're good enough at lying, then they'll be able to shut those windows; shut them closed and hide them from the world so no one can see what they're really feeling.

You can't though. People can be careless and too unobservant to notice what those windows are telling them, but their always open. You just need to look into them.

~xXx~

He watched her lithe figure walk down the hall. Her gait he noticed was definitely that of a hunter's. Graceful and elegant while producing virtually no sound. Her gray eyes scanned the hall, sharp as a hawk's and they strayed his way.

Blue eyes met gray. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute before the blue eyes dropped.

_Coward. _He thought to himself. _You can't even meet her eyes, what's wrong with you? What's so bad with meeting her eyes that you can't do?_

"Hey Peeta why were you staring at Katniss?" Delly Cartwright asked confused.

"I wasn't staring at her Delly." Peeta lied smoothly.

"Right." Delly replied in that tone that spoke, _you're lying to me and I want to know why. _

"Honest Delly," Peeta told her defensively. "Why would I stare at her anyways?"

"I dunno." She told him shrugging her shoulder. "Maybe you like her?"

He gave a snort. "Ya right, why would I? She's from the Seam." Delly just nodded her head at him and the conversation was dropped. As Katniss passed by Peeta his eyes trailed along her, filled with longing.

~xXx~

He closed his eyes and shut himself off from the rest of the world. He couldn't watch, he couldn't stand it. _Deep breaths Haymitch_ he thought to himself _deep breaths. _ He opened his eyes again and saw her ruby red blood spilling from her throat and spilling itself all over him.

One. Two. Three. Deep breath Haymitch, Deep breath.

"Hay…Haymitch?" She croaks out hoarsly.

Four. Five. Six. "Ya Maysilee?" He whispered quietly.

"Why did you come back?"

Seven. Eight. Nine. He doesn't speak, he can't. He can't tell her that he doesn't know why, he can't tell her that. Not as she's dying. "Because." He says despairingly, "We had an alliance you dim wit. Can't abandon you so soon after we break it off, that'd be too cruel sweet heart."

"Sweet heart." She gasps. "I like that Haymitch. No one's ever called me that before. I really…like it."

Ten.

Her hand went limp and Haymitch choked back a sob, he choked back a scream; a scream for his fallen ally, a scream for his fallen district partner.

A scream for his fallen friend.

He pushed it all back down into himself and locked it away. He wouldn't let it show, he wouldn't let it get the better of him. He took a deep breath and let it out before continuing on his way. His eyes were hard and determined, but when he spared a glance back at his fallen friend they softened every so slightly and filled with sorrow.

~xXx~

She was cold, brash, rude, sarcastic, abrupt and just slightly insane.

While other girls cooed about how cute that boy was, or got caught up on the latest gossip she would stare from afar with disgust before she went back to playing tackle tag with the boys. She didn't belong with those frilly and girly _things. _They would plait each other's hair and gasp about how dirty their clothes would get when they had to go do the lumber work. They could handle axes without being incompetent, but at any given moment they would drop their axes and start to talk to each other twirling their hair around their fingers. She loved the feeling of swinging that axe in her hand. It was mind numbing and took her to a far away place where all she had to do was swing and swing and she would be fine. With each drop of a tree she felt lighter and light, useful.

Those frilly things were an entirely different species than she was.

So she stayed away. There was no way that they would understand her, that they would accept her. She was much better off with the boys playing tackle tag and beating them in arm wrestling. When she was being born something must have gone wrong because she was much more a boy than a girl.

She brushed everything off and dealt with it in the only way she knew how. Insults. When the boys asked why she wasn't playing with the girls she would reply that she didn't want to be infected with whatever disease they had. When the girls asked why she played with the boys and didn't join them in gossiping she told them because she actually had a brain to put to use and doing things like gossiping would only make her stupider, like them. The boys would laugh and the girls would walk away with a huff.

She was always in the middle with no where to go. She didn't laugh, and she didn't walk away with a huff. She would cross her arms and get surly expression on her face, she put up a front that she couldn't care less.

If the rest of them had just paid attention then they could have noticed the small and fine details. They could have noticed how whenever those frilly girls would discuss plans for going to each other's houses, or what they would do their hair like tomorrow, or just when they would be closely knit and constantly laughing, they would have seen the sadness and loneliness that was in Johanna's eyes. When the girls stopped talking to her in definitively since they didn't want to come down with the diseases that Johanna Mason had which made them all barbaric and unfeminine they didn't see the hurt in her eyes, and the cold feeling of rejection that she felt.

If they had just looked into her eyes they would have seen the girl who was screaming, the girl who was dying, the girl who just wanted to be included.

But they didn't.

~xXx~

"That was…amazing Finnick." Amortia gasped. "They were right; out of all the victors I've had before, you are by far the best."

"Why thank you Amortia." Finnick told her seductively. "It's wonderful to know that I pleased you so much more then the others."

Amortia gave a little squeal and latched herself onto Finnick's bare chest. To her, he was a god, an absolutely gorgeous god who knew exactly how to please her. Every touch, every word he spoke sent shivers down her spine and only made her want more. "Is there time for another round Finnick?" She pleaded with him.

"Sorry love." Finnick sighed. "But I must get going."

"No." she whispered. "Please don't go Finnick." Her purple eyes were filling with tears and she trembled at the thought of him leaving her. She clung tighter to him in hopes that he wouldn't be able to leave.

Carefully Finnick disentangled himself from the orange mess that was Amortia. "I'm sorry love, but I have other's who are waiting for me. It'd be unfair to leave them all alone, even though you are my favourite."

"Really?" Amortia whispered, her purple eyes shining with the compliment.

"Of course." Finnick lied. "I haven't taken such pleasure from my job in quite some time." A complete and utter lie, but he had to do whatever he could to get away. Amortia let go and in a matter of minutes Finnick was gone.

To the outside world he was a man who did all he could to get laid, and enjoyed it. Every Capitol visit there were at least six different women, sometimes men, who requested his presence and he went and pleased them each time, they all though of him as a womanizer.

It was better that way if they thought that he was. If they knew what really went on, there would be no stop to the pity and sympathy and everything else that he would get. Even some of the people that bought him had pity in their eyes.

Of course that never stopped them.

So it was much better if the rest of the world didn't know. They saw a man who wanted nothing more then a woman's body. His posture, his words, his actions, his reputation all confirmed that. Everything confirmed that, except his eyes.

In the heat of the moment they would be filled with passion and lust as he imagined his client was Annie, but afterwards was a different story. Disgust and horror, sadness and shame, those emotions were viewed for the world to see, but they never stayed around long. If they did, then those he loved would get hurt. His clients would be unsatisfied, Snow would be angry, and in the end Finnick would lose everything.

~xXx~

Secrets behind closed doors, skeletons locked inside a closet, that's what eyes were everything that you never wanted everyone to know out in the open. Just look into them and you see what a person's feeling, happiness, depression, anger, panic, determination, hope, a rainbow of emotions displayed for the world to see.

And no one could hide them.


End file.
